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men, women, and chainsaws
Here's a little show I've been helping to direct for a couple months... you should come see it, it's my girlfriend's baby. And it's awesome...

What is a community-based, alternative-venue performance troupe like Fluid Movement to do when the pools are closed and water ballet, unwelcome?

Get thirty people to strap on their skates and take over the Hamden Rec. Center! Of course!

Welcome the return of FLUID MOVEMENT's occasional Roller Skating Ballet! And this year it's called EASY ROLLER! A COURTROOM DRAMA on WHEELS.

Imagine a town where roller-skating is a crime, sunny days in the park depressingly sedentary, and Kevin Bacon is filing for copyright infringement!

It takes a special kind of person to overcome the condescending ways of an uptight judge in Intercourse PA, but DARCY DUTTLEHOFFER and her brand of ROLLER LOVE are more than up to the task. With a little help from the AMISH and her side-parted ponytail, she gets a backward town to take a good look at themselves and MAKE THAT CHANGE…on WHEELS!





Where? Hampden's Roosevelt Recreation Center, 1221W, 36th St, Baltimore, MD
When? Saturday, March 14th at 7 and 9 PM, and Sunday, March 15th at 7 PM.
Doors open half an hour before each show.
Tickets available at http://www.brownpapertickets.com/event/57129 and at the door. They're selling out fast so get them in advance!
How much? $10! That's a lotta roll for a little dough!

And here's a screening that a movie my friends and I made is included in:
Yay CAMM Shorts!
At 8 on Friday at the Creative Alliance.

Come see me do things!
Come see the things I made!
5 made their beds or lie in it
Something we made in 48hrs:

4 made their beds or lie in it
gosh, i used to write much more here.
and now it seems i write much less.

perhaps because my days and evenings have slowly melded into basic scheduled certainties. i will be working at 9. i will be leaving at 5:30. i will have dinner at this kitchen table. the dog must be walked. and so forth.

most of the time, i do not mourn the loss of my former hourly uncertainty, nor the rather misguided perception of such an existence as poetic, but i do mourn the desire to complain and/or pontificate poetically about said uncertainty.

such flowery language regarding the man who looked at me in the bar and the murmur of the coffee shop politic and the night we all went that way in the car and so and so's face caught in lamplight has almost died a quiet death.

for maybe someday, some week, certainty might suddenly be deemed poetic as well, or even (dare i speak it) complacent.

i'll see what i can do for the time being:

but for now, as i wait for the phone call that might perhaps bolster my nostalgia for late nights, the low mutter of the television in the downstairs apartment, and the page turning in the bedroom, and the ticking of the orange clock on the orange living room wall is again slowly calling me in between the sheets.
lie in it
Glitterama was a huge stress and huge fun and huge success. Lines stretching around the corner of North Ave and Howard St. Standing room only. I was a maniac, maniac (dancing housewife/filmstrip genius) on the floor. Like I've never been before.

Amanda and I can finally smell the sweet sweet stench of publicly accepted permanence. One year, and people stop mumbling to each other "we'll see." after you cross to the other side of the room. Staying in ridiculous hotel room so we can lie around in a king size bed with 5 billion count sheets and stare out 10th story windows naked and then order room service at 11am and eat a champagne breakfast in luxuriously soft robes that have been washed many times over and naked too. Also, we are buying a house. Yup.

Rice Dream makes Horchata now. And I want to bathe in it. All day long. I take it from the fridge and guzzle, and it drips down my chest and gathers in puddles on the floor. And then, when there is no more left in the fancy square carton, I get down on my hands an knees and lick it off the floor.
4 made their beds or lie in it
A Fluid Movement Evening of Wonderment!
Glitterama Glitterama Glitterama!!!

What’s Baltimore’s favorite performance art troupe supposed to do when it’s too cold to swim? They take the show indoors to present their brand spankin’ new variety show, “Glitterama, Glitterama, Glitterama!” performed at Fluid Movement Headquarters, LOF Studios, 122 North Avenue on Saturday, December 2, 2006.

An evening of wonderment awaits you as Fluid Movement presents a classic style variety show brimming with so much talent, you won’t be able to sit in your seats. Our troupe of performers, the Crème de la Water Ballet, will dazzle with singing, juggling, culinary provocation, alpine hip-hop dancing, gyrating farm animals and much, much more!

You can't miss it. Why would you? I mean, really.

SEE!! Twirling Vacuums and Acrobatic Housewives!
HEAR!! Your Recommended Dose of Vaudevillian Hip-hop!
EXPERIENCE!! A Scandalous Charm City Cake Dance!

Who: Fluid Movement, Baltimore’s community-based performance art group

What: “Glitterama, Glitterama, Glitterama!!”

When: Two Shows!! Saturday, December 2nd, at 7:00 PM and 9:00 PM, Refreshments at both shows!

Where: Load of Fun Studios, 122 North Ave. (street parking available)

How: Tickets are $10 for general seating, sold only at the door. Liquid refreshments will be available. Come to Joe Squared afterwards for a Glitterama Happy Hour Afterparty!!
lie in it
As I walked down the concrete steps to Brewer's Art (an automatic act, an act formed without thought, forged from so many repetitive gestures from so many eager evenings) and then stood at the darkened, bass-rattled barstools, I looked over behind the bar and said "Karma."

She turned around and smiled, surprised, and said, "Where have you been?"
All I could come up with was, "I guess I just don't go out much anymore."

And sitting there, to my right and left, were friends that I used to see every night: rainy cold nights driving to so-and-so's with the windshield wipers whipping back and forth, scraping noisily against the glass; summer nights with the wind too loud for the music, turned up; nights in lamplit living rooms; nights in bars. Those nights, described with such loving poeticism, used to become significant as they happened, used to mean something, well, perhaps romantic.

Now I see them less, succumbing to or maybe choosing more evenings at home with a scrambled laptop, out at dinners, talking to girlfriend, laying on something soft, being tired after 9 hours of staring at final cut pro windows. And the poeticism has dwindled to a small mumble I didn't quite catch. Every five minutes or so, I think that is sad. The other every five minutes or so, I think about when would be the most unobtrusive time to leave.

I tend to go out on certain nights that rally against better judgement, and somewhere in lulls in conversation that slowly etch the drift in common interests deeper and deeper into the table we are staring across, I realize that my better judgement is better.

The petty struggle then rages on, arguments over whether I am now officially not cool enough for the proverbial school, or if I am actually too cool for that school everyone talks about.

As ever, we are floating in the ether of measurements. And, like our own system of weights and measures, the standards are completely and utterly arbitrary. But we follow them nonetheless.
1 made their bed or lie in it
last night i stood next to the flaming lips in a milkmaid costume. in front of 25,000 people.
the smog machine was smogging in my face, our costumes smelled bad and i had a headache.
i had a small orgasm.
giant balloons, orange and blue striped confetti shooters, santas, aliens, superheroes, all kinds of confetti, a sea of people with their hands in the air, colored red by the lights, everyone dancing to "She Don't Use Jelly."

slightly earlier in the day, we skipped around the festival grounds dancing at appropriate times and having our pictures taken several million times.
"are you with the flaming lips?" a few asked.
but most just said, "what the hell?"
our replies consisted of "Wilkomen" "Switzerland" and "Fluid Movement." None of which make much sense.

hours earlier, as the milkmaids entered the festival grounds, a radio rumor was started by one of the DJs at 98 Rock.
"those girls must be with the flaming lips."

upon our final tour of the festival we were stopped by one of the many people that organize the flaming lips' live shows.
"the band would like to invite you onstage."

after it was all over and my legs ached and my armpits were chafed i was grinning and extra gay. went up to a scantily clad emily and natasha and actually high-fived like a dweeb and we screamed "That was fucking awesome!" like even bigger dweebs.

sweaty hug from wayne was nice too. as well as chatting with clap your hands say yeah and the new pornagraphers.

goddamn it was fun.
2 made their beds or lie in it
Tonight is the first annual Charm City Mud Wrestling Event!
Beer. Mud. The Scantily Clad. The Costumed.
Bands, and a DJ (yours truly).

5 bucks requested donation.

Costume yourself.

Kegs tapped at 7; mud wrestling to begin at 8.

Come to watch or come to get dirty, but if you're gettin in the pit, bring a towel, a change of clothes and your worst enemy. Costumes encouraged, loss of costumes strongly encouraged.

Location: Audra's Country Estate
3001 Independence St, Baltimore, MD 21218
lie in it
would anyone like catch the anselm keifer exhibition before it leaves and check out the jesper just films at the hirshhorn next sunday?

anselm will make it worth your while. i'll buy the coffee and cigarettes.
5 made their beds or lie in it
i have been out with a friend.

as i roll the crackly tires into the parking space i left four hours ago, and the squeaky brakes ease the car into a lurch forward and then a stop, it is quiet in waverly except for the lingering crickets, still outside as the air seems to thin out ever slowly with cooler and cooler breezes.
it feels as though i have been out abominably late, everyone has abandoned the out for the comfort of languidly dozing off to their open windows letting in late-night winds.

in this simple scene, i leave the dripping faucet and kick the dog out of bed. i slip under the covers in my underwear and move closer to the landscape of body next to me, fast asleep long ago. i put my arms around it and kiss her softly as she sleeps, a muffled high pitched drowsy "mmm" in reciprocation. in these moments she seems so utterly and perfectly warm, hair splayed out across her shoulders in the dark and i'm not quite sure which way her face is turned. it is in these moments that i often find her the most beautiful, crawling into bed with an unconscious breathing mass. it is in the crickets moving and the window open and the gentle rise and fall of her back that i realize again that i love her.
2 made their beds or lie in it